


Stolen

by offwhxte



Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: M/M, Remorse, Stealing, but lotsa fluff, cute gay boys, slight angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-10
Updated: 2017-07-10
Packaged: 2018-11-30 03:09:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11454732
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/offwhxte/pseuds/offwhxte
Summary: After an unfortunate tiff because of a promotion, Hotch ends up on Reid's doorstep with an old bear in his hand.





	Stolen

"Here." 

A flash of lightning gave me the pleasure of seeing his face in my darkened doorway, the booming thunder rolling steadily away from my house, the lingering rain still pattering outside as I stood, my bare toes settled into my plush carpet and a warm mug in my hand. 

He was soaking wet, had  _definitely_  walked to my house from his, a few blocks away. His hair was in his face, some kind of odd-colored gel that I've never seen or even imagined on him mixing with the water and rolling down the side of his face. The promotions really make you panic, making you want to do something risky. This was his idea of risky-- a cheap gel from Target. It was the least of my problems at the time, though. 

Another rumble of thunder caused him to jump, almost hitting his head on the lip of lowest bit of roofing that managed to just keep him from the rain. I reached over and pressed the back of my fingernail to the underside of the light switch, the cold of it strange compared to the warmth of my mug just seconds before. I didn't know how long we stood there, my hand daring me to flip the switch, and his eyes hidden somewhere in the gloom of a rainy Friday evening. 

"Here," he said again as if I hadn't heard him the first time. 

I flipped the switch. I felt bad (-ish, let's not get crazy) because I was standing there in a comfy pajama shirt and sweats while he was in his soaking-wet uniform from the high-stakes government job that I _apparently_ had no chance of getting into. My gaze traveled down his wet arm, a small pool of rainwater in the crook of his elbow, and in the middle of his palm laid a tiny, soaked-to-the-stuffing bear in the middle of his palm in its own little puddle. One of those old-school obscure-brand bears that you got from McDonald's in 1996. 

I looked from the purple bear to him and back again. I didn't take it.  

"What is that." 

He shuddered, his free hand going to rub up and down his other arm, a feeble attempt at warming his freezing form. 

"I stole it." 

"You stole it." 

"Awhile ago, before the... I took this from your house." 

"You're forty-seven years old," I blinked at him, "You drive a car and a motorcycle when you're feeling extra stupid. Why... the  _hell._.. are you here." 

He tried to shove the bear into my hands, but I made no move to take it. In fact, I took a sip of my coffee and raised my eyebrows. I wanted nothing to do with him-- he shows up randomly after not talking for  _years_? I was--  _am._ Over him.  

"I found it--" he gulped in a large breath, and I realized how hard he was breathing. He must have run here. He must have had no time to train while he was busy ignoring the team he left behind. 

I tapped my foot against the comfy carpet, awaiting a response. He leaned in the doorway, drops of water dripping from his everywhere and onto  _my_  carpet. 

"You found it...?" I urged him on, but in my casual way, with my glare in my eyes to show him that I wasn't amused. No, not in the least. He was bringing wet dog smell near me and there was a distinct reason why I liked cats. 

"I found it," he panted, "when I was moving out, near my dresse--  _underneath_  my dresser. And I..." 

"Ran through the storm like an idiot just to give it back," I leaned in the doorway as well, but on the other side, my shoulder blades pressed against the hard wood, "Are those cheap hair product fumes making you crazy? Amnesia, perhaps? Don't remember leaving in the middle of the night, targeting every single insecurity possible, and telling me I wouldn't have gotten into the program even if I'd tried? Because I do." 

A look of shame overtook his features, "I'm sorry. You know I'm sorry. I tried to apologize--" 

My hand was flying up before I knew it in a dismissive wave, "Sticky notes on case lockers are so elementary. You had a damn car, you were five minutes and twenty-five seconds away." 

He hissed quietly, as if I'd punched him. "I really am sorry." 

His arm was still extended, shaking slightly, and I knew it was getting tired. I wanted so badly to give it up then, but my bad cop demeanor was something that often gave me what I want and drove the demons away. 

This man in front of me, however, was both of those options. 

"Take it." 

I must have zoned out staring at his hair because his voice startled me.  

"Excuse me?" 

" _God_ \-- the bear, Spencer. Take the bear." 

I shook my head and turned to the dresser by the door, filled with towels and everything. I wasn't going to tell him that, though, not until I got what I wanted. I ran my fingertips over one of the softest ones, an old one with my name written in faded Sharpie in the top left corner from naptime in Kindergarten. Aaron used to make fun of me for keeping it. 

"What makes you think I want it?" 

"I don't care if you do or not," another clap of thunder sent his forehead straight into the side of the doorframe, "Ow! Please, just, take it." 

I sighed, "Why are you here?" 

"Because I--"  _rumble_ , "-- wanted to give you this." 

"And that's all?" 

I was testing him. And there was a right answer. And if he failed, the door would be slammed in his face and I wouldn't care how loud he knocked on the door, I would be content with my coffee and my worn pillow from the last time he slept here. It still smelled like him. 

"No." 

"No?" 

"Yeah, no." 

I smiled to myself. In my head of course. My glare was still present in the "real world", probably breaking him down. Which is what I wanted. 

"Then what, dear Aaron, are you wanting?" 

"A towel. Maybe... I don't know," he pushed off the doorway and looked at the shoes I'd bought him for his birthday that were drowning in their own puddle, "A place to stay..." 

I couldn't say I was expecting that one. 

"Why?" I asked, my glare fading into a look of true concern. 

Even if he was an idiot, he was  _my_  idiot, and I needed to make sure he was well enough to be the idiot he had the potential to be.  

"I quit." 

My attention was captured by the bear in his palm as an annoyed breath escaped my lips. Now I was going to  _have_  to let him in, and-- 

Okay. So, cliche central, I kissed him. And I've done it before, but this was probably one of my favorites. Excluding the wet dog smell. I think my coffee spilled a little bit, but there were more important things to worry about. 

"Spencer--" 

"Here," I took the bear from his hand and slipped it into my pajama shirt pocket, immediately feeling the cold of water against my chest, "As stupid as your career decisions can be, you're still so _romantic_." 

His shoulders slumped in a more relaxed way as he stepped inside and away from the rain. 

"Thank you so much, I can't begin to--" 

"Don't mention it," I handed my mug to him to warm his hands and sent a small smile, the smallest one I could manage, "Thanks for my bear." 

"You're welcome," he pressed three fingers to his lips when I turned around, thinking I didn't catch it. 

I did, though. 

"Don't steal anything," I called over my shoulder as I left to grab some blankets for my bed on the sofa. I always loved it when his face went red. 


End file.
